


Waiting For The Rain To Pass

by Flick (raynon)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: M/M, hhhhh i lov jet star, in this house we also love & support familial love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25507648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynon/pseuds/Flick
Summary: Party Poison tries to find a distraction for his anxiety.
Relationships: Jet Star/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Waiting For The Rain To Pass

Acid thunder was the weirdest thing that Party Poison had ever heard in his life. Acid Thunder probably would have made a cool Killjoy name, now that the thought passed over his mind, but a little too grungey for his taste. Not as peppy. The thought was torn from his head when a particularly aggressive roar-- well, it sounded more like static tearing through screaming angels --threatened the sound barrier in the sky. Party nearly knocked over the gas lamp beside him, but quickly grabbed it with a cringe. “Whoops...” he muttered to himself, then sighed and got on his feet.

Because they’d boarded the windows up around the diner, it was difficult to see the rain outside. It didn’t stop Party from peering through the cracks for a minute, though he got bored pretty easily. Mostly, he liked the aftermath of the rain, after everything had dried up, because it gave Party a reason to fix up any corroded graffiti around the walls outside. But for now, he was stuck waiting.

Picking up the lamp, he wandered aimlessly inside, though the stroll was short. The only other person in the diner with him was Jet; Ghoul, Kobra, and the Girl had got themselves trapped at the crash tracks, and the more the thought weighed down on him, the more he was motivated to sidetrack and grab his radio. He hurried back toward the mattress and felt around the bottom shelf beside it until he found what he was looking for, and fiddled with the dial until he could get some sort of signal.

“Poison to the AM. Anyone copy? This is Poison, over.” He laid down on his stomach, propping his chin up with his hand. Fifteen seconds passed, and he sighed. “This is Poison to the AM. Does anyone copy?”

He’d tried to reach them for ten minutes, on and off, and he sighed heavily when there was still no response. Fucking rain messing with the signal, he figured, but it still would’ve been nice to have some assurance that the others were okay. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and flipped the radio in his hand, and sat up. The more anxious he got, the less he was able to keep still.

Once again, he found himself on his feet and wandering the small space. The thunder clapped once more, making Party hug himself, then scowl. He needed something to calm his head. He needed...another focus. The only other sounds beside the dead radio signal and the battering rain was heavy, staggered breathing coming from the supply closet.

When Party checked on Jet, the door already half-open, he pushed it the rest of the way and leaned against the frame, biting his tongue. His eyes went half-lidded as he watched Jet do pull-ups on a metal bar he’d installed some weeks prior, but the emotions were calming in the weirdest way. Or maybe Party was just impressed because he himself didn’t really have the upper body strength to be doing this for as long as Jet had been going at it.

“Hey--” Jet exhaled when he noticed the leader, though he hadn’t stopped.

“Need some extra weight?” Party thought aloud, smiling lazily.

That question made Jet’s feet plant back on the floor. The only thing he was wearing, besides a thin sheen of sweat, was a pair of Kobra’s more worn-out hakama, though they were tight around Jet’s hips.

Party  _ tried _ not to stare.

Jet pushed back some loose curls that had fallen out of his hair tie, and inhaled deeply. “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

Thunder cut off Party’s answer, though that strike was quieter than the others. Thankfully, he was able to keep from flinching this time. “Yeah, y’know. Bored. And I know how you like challenges sometimes.”

Party’s anxiety about the safety of the Killjoys had very clear and recognizable symptoms. He didn’t want to appear outright worried, because of course he had faith that they could handle themselves. Even the Girl grew stronger and more self-reliant every day, so he always looked around for just enough distraction that the worry didn’t twist his heart.

“C’mon,” Jet coaxed him, his smile growing.

Party bit back a smile and lowered his head as he circled around to Jet’s back, then climbed on his back like a baby sloth and clasped his own hands together tightly against Jet’s chest.

Jet took a moment to re-hydrate before reaching for the bar again. “Okay, here we go--” Their feet lifted off the floor, and Party closed his eyes just to let the rhythmic up-and-down motions soothe him. On top of that, Jet smelled nice. But in the same way gasoline smelled nice; it wasn’t a type of scent people would seek out or want to wear, but it made some part of Party’s brain feel kinda warm and safe. He buried his face against Jet’s shoulder, nuzzling the taut muscle.

Jet’s body was nice, altogether. He was a perfect balance of strong and soft, able to knock out Dracs with just his fists, but his stomach made an amazing pillow. Party’s fingers flexed out so they could skim lightly over the stretch marks that lined right over his armpits, and his body arched to press up against his damp back, not caring if his shirt stuck to his skin. The dip of Party’s hips fit against Jet’s glutes as if they were cut from the same cloth--

“Party?” Jet grunted, pulling up once more.

“Hm?” Party kept his eyes closed.

“We can be honest with each other, right?” Jet exhaled hard, letting his arms hang freely for a moment.

“Always,” Party’s lips curled into a smile as his lashes fluttered. “What’s up?” He could feel the skin on Jet’s neck shift as he swallowed, making the leader’s brow raise.

“Uh, you’re sorta making this noise. It sounds like you’re happy, which...y’know. I’m happy you’re happy. But, dude, it’s right in my ear and--” Jet paused to take another breath. “--it’s kinda doin’ things to me. I dunno if that’s your intention, or...yeah, but it’s a little distracting, is all.”

The nerves around Party’s pelvis sparked, and rosy pink flushed over his face and neck. “...Whoops,” was all he responded with. The thunder outside seemed even quieter now against the thrumming of his own pulse.

“Well, that’s vague.” Jet turned his face until his cheek was pressed against Party’s. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t wanna do, but d’you understand where I’m comin’ from?”

Party finally unclasped his hands and let his feet touch the floor again, Jet following a second after so he could turn around and face him. “Jets, you’re...” Party unintentionally licked his lips. “Ya look really good. Like...yeah.” His smile grew into a wolfish grin, even if his gaze was still apologetic.

Jet, however, did not look sorry in the slightest. His fingers reached to clutch Party’s shirt tight in his fists, and backed him up three steps into the wall with a thud, admittedly harder than he’d meant.

The wind was knocked out of his lungs for a second, but that only elicited a louder moan and left his jaw slack. His eyes opened wide at the sudden feel of Jet’s tongue in his mouth, teeth gnashing hungrily together. Party’s hand gripped hard at Jet’s shoulders, nails digging into the slick skin as if he were trying to draw blood. They left red trails in the wake of Jet’s nape and around his clavicle.

Jet tugged Party closer until both their hands were squashed between them, but he seemed to be out to devour Party’s mouth. Jet still tasted like this morning’s coffee and trail mix and the way he sucked on Party’s tongue made the leader’s knees buckle.

“J--  _ wow... _ ” Party was only given a second to catch his breath and swallow. He’d forgotten where he was, and figured it didn’t matter right now. He was exactly where he needed to be. When Jet bit the corner of his mouth, he was seeing stars.

“You okay?” Jet murmured, pressing their foreheads together. His fingers uncurled slowly, then stroked Party’s chest as an apology for digging his knuckles into his ribs.

Party didn’t mean to laugh. He really didn’t, and yet, there he went, breaking into laughter that made his whole body shudder. “Am I--” His neck craned back. “Yeah. Fuck yeah, Jet, I’m golden.”

An echo of static crackled nearby, but Party realized that it wasn’t thunder this time. The static picked up, soon melding with broken syllables.

Jet perked up as well, and he let Party go so they could both dive toward the mattress.

_ “--art-- ov--” _

The voice was high-pitched and energetic.

_ “Tra--to Party--irl--over!” _

Party grinned. “Is that you, Girlie? This is Party and Jet, over!”

Static reigned again, and then--  _ “Party! Party! It’s the Girl, uh, I mean, reporting from the AM! Over!” _

“How are things over at the derby, kiddo? Didn’t wreck my car, did you? Over.” Party rested his head on Jet’s shoulder.

_ “We borrowed one of the repair garages and Ghoul’s looking her over. Not...not Over over, yet.”  _ The Girl giggled.  _ “The announcer let us into the radio station to check in on you. Over for real this time.” _

“Thank you!” Jet and Party beamed. “Is Kobra keeping you two out of trouble? Over.”

_ “Me and Ghoul? We’re too...what’s the word you always use?”  _ Kobra’s voice faintly uttered the word ‘rambunctious’ in the background.  _ “Yeah. That. But we’re all safe, and they say the rain’s gonna end soon. Over.” _

“That’s great, sugar. We miss you here. Over.”

_ “You said Jet’s with you? Over.” _

“Right here. Did Kobra win the derby? Over,” Jet asked.

_ “The rain started before the race could end, but he was kicking ass.”  _ Kobra laughed.  _ “Over.” _

“Well, it’s really good to know you’re holdin’ up well. We’ll see you soon, okay? Love you, over.” Jet pressed the corner of the radio against his forehead.

_ “Love you, too. Over and out.” _

Party drew in a slow breath, idly running his index finger over his lower lip. “...Need help washing up while we wait for them to get back?”

Jet’s smirk answered his question clearly.

**Author's Note:**

> hakama are pants that samurai traditionally wear, by the way. you know them really wide-legged bois? kobra steals as many comfy pants as he can and everyone else takes advantage of that. ;)


End file.
